The Two Kings
by ScarredNotBroken
Summary: Even though he held the title of High King, there were times, Peter thought, his brother was equally deserving of the title. /Or, three times Peter was vastly humbled by his brother's actions.


**A/N:** This is not what I'm supposed to be working on, exactly, buuuuut it's what I worked on sooooo...  
*It took me over a month to come up with a title. This was a first. Usually titles are not hard for me.*

This one is a parallel to _No Longer Captive_ but stands alone and takes a different tone. Fits in both the movie verse and the book verse. First two scenes are entirely made up, the second of which is based off a Tumblr post and my headcanon that Narnia wasn't always on bad terms with Telmar. The third fits after the book _The Horse and His Boy,_ so if you haven't read the books, you can still enjoy the story but won't understand the context. The third section actually kind of bleeds into the second movie in terms of Peter's attitude.

There will be two with the queens coming as well (eventually).

As always, I own nothing, but fun fact: C.S. Lewis himself encouraged fanfiction and fanart a long time before it was even thing. Cheers to Mr. Lewis!

Enjoy!

* * *

 **The Two Kings**

* * *

The first time Peter questioned his right to be called 'High King,' he and his siblings had scarcely been ruling for more than year.

"Why did you do that, Edmund? Answer me! He deserved to be put to death for his crimes; you know that!"

Edmund stopped suddenly, spinning around and meeting his brother's furious gaze with the courage of a warrior much older than eleven. The words that followed, Peter would never forget. In that moment, he didn't see his brother but the king that Aslan himself had ordained to rule and bring justice to Narnia.

"So did I. Or have you forgotten? Sometimes, I think, continuing to live with what you have done is punishment enough."

As he watched his brother's back continue down the corridor, he couldn't deny those fiercely stated words. He couldn't deny them, but it still didn't seem fair. Those Fell Beasts had tried to kill his little brother only last week. They shouldn't be pardoned.

Later on, as he told Susan what had happened, he felt even more justified - though only for a moment.

"I would have done just as you did, Peter. It would have been a justified sentence. However, that is not our call to make. Aslan gave that role to Edmund for a reason. We have to trust that Aslan, just as always, knows what He is doing. Edmund pardoned them just as he was pardoned. So, perhaps, they can change as he was changed."

Perhaps they were both right. But he still didn't like it.

Not two weeks passed before another hearing of the Fell came about. And, once again, Edmund pardoned them. Peter was beyond furious. This had to stop.

"Edmund -."

"Don't say it, Pete. I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it. You're mad because I'm not passing the judgement on these Beasts in the way you think I ought. But Aslan didn't leave this job to you."

"I know that, Ed, but if you let this continue, you will _always_ have enemies around every corner. There will never truly be peace in Narnia. You can't pardon everyone of every crime! It doesn't work like that!"

"The only pardon they are being granted is from death, Pete. It's not like I'm letting them roam free."

"And what happens when they band together and rebel? Then we have to go to war all over again. I don't know about you, but I'd really rather avoid that."

"That won't happen."

"You don't know that, Ed."

"No, maybe not. But I do know that anyone can change his or her ways. A traitor once is not a traitor always."

"And if they don't change their ways?"

"We deal with that when the times comes. But, Peter, I feel we have plenty to gain in making former enemies into allies."

Peter stared, dumbfounded. Until this moment, he'd had no idea his eleven-year-old brother could really be so cunning. He wasn't keeping them from death only because of the grace he himself had received (although he had no doubt that played a role); he was doing it to strength the kingdom. He was showing them grace, and at the same time raising up an army. It was positively brilliant.

And why hadn't he himself thought of that?

Yet, he also had to wonder if he was reading too much into his brother's words.

"Why? Just...explain to me why. Then maybe I won't have to be so angry about it all."

"You already know the biggest reason: I, by Aslan's grace, was pardoned from death; therefore, it is well that I should pardon others, at the very least, from that fate. However, that's not the only reason. If I did not, would we not end up annihilating entire races? I don't think that's probably what Aslan would want. For another reason, many of the Fell were warriors in Her army. We give them a chance to prove themselves, and not only do we bolster our own defenses, but they get a second chance at life, Pete. They get a chance to fight for all the _right_ reasons instead of all the wrong ones. If they choose not to, well, that's on them."

Peter had been partly correct. While his brother had thought about the military advantage of, say, the minotaurs and their giant axes and the black dwarves with their smithing skills, it appeared these had been merely afterthoughts after all.

There was, most certainly, he realized then, a very good reason Aslan had left his little brother in charge of such affairs. He'd had no right to question the decisions made.

It was a shot to his pride to be sure. Edmund. He was only eleven, and yet he seemed to be much older than that.

And, even though he knew Aslan makes no mistakes, he had to wonder if the title of High King should not have been bestowed upon his brother instead.

* * *

The second time Peter questioned his right to be called 'High King,' he and his siblings were in the fifth year of their reign.

"I really don't think you should go, Ed."

"Just because you lost your cool in front of the King of Telmar doesn't mean anything bad is going to happen to me while I'm there." Before Peter could say a word, his brother pressed on. "You want peace between Narnia and Telmar? Then let me go try to smooth things over, Pete."

The situation was exasperating, but he had to admit his brother was right. When it came to Archenland, diplomatic relations had gone smoothly. King Lune had been wonderful and had wanted as Narnia wanted: peace. Telmar had been entirely different. And he had blown it.

"You may not even be able to get an audience now, you know."

"They'll have to let me in eventually. I won't leave until they do."

Peter couldn't help but to smile. The castle cooks had in recent years given Edmund the loving title of Famine of Narnia, joking that he would eat all the food in the entire land, leaving everyone else destitute. "They have enough problems with crops at this time of year. So, in that case, I guess you might be right."

Edmund mounted Philip. "Don't worry about me, Pete. It'll be fine."

The elder king sighed. "I sure hope so. If you do get into trouble, I'm sending Lucy to get you. No one has ever been able to resist her charm."

"Say, doesn't she have a suitor coming this week?"

"Don't remind me. I've still to come up with a way to scare him off."

And so the long days passed, the High King ever awaiting his brother's return. At the end of the seventh day of Edmund's absence, just as the other three royals were sitting down to dine, they heard the call of the horn signalling for the gate to be opened. Peter wasted no time in arriving in the courtyard.

There before him, dismounting, completely unharmed, was the younger king.

"Ed! I'm so relieved. It must not have gone too horribly for you to have returned."

In reply, Edmund held out a rolled scroll, grinning all the while.

Peter unfurled the parchment, and his mouth promptly fell open. "How…?"

"Wasn't that hard, actually. He was quite agreeable."

He stared at his brother. "I don't understand. He was downright hostile towards me."

"Well, it _may_ have had something to do with the good Narnian wine I took along with me…"

" _You didn't!"_ Was he really hearing this?!

"No, I did not get him to sign the agreement while he was drunk."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Aslan."

"He _did_ appreciate it, though. And after giving it to him, he was much more apt to listen to what I had to say. Apparently the custom in Telmar is that if you want something, you have to give something first. I brought him wine, therefore he listened with respect."

"I can't believe it. My little brother, the expert diplomat."

"I wouldn't go that far. It also helped that we appear to have the same sense of humor."

It wasn't until early the next morning, as the High King was saddling up to leave for a campaign against the Northern Giants, that a thought occurred to Peter: His little brother, at fifteen years old, was not so little anymore.

"Edmund," he spoke as he swung into the saddle, "take care of everything here while I'm gone."

Being older, it was normally a job he left to Susan when he was away for long periods of time. But his brother was more than capable.

Edmund stated at him for only a moment before replying with a smile, "Will do, Pete."

As Peter rode away, he knew if anything were to happen to him, he was leaving Narnia in good hands.

* * *

The third time Peter questioned his right to be called 'Kigh King,' he and his siblings had reigned in Narnia for a prosperous fourteen years.

He had gone to the North after another Giant uprising, once again leaving his younger brother in charge. He hadn't expected things to go so incredibly wrong in his absence. Susan had had so many suitors, and he trusted her to make a good choice. He hadn't been worried at all.

But when he returned to find Susan in the castle and his other siblings gone along with two thirds of the remaining army, his stomach plummeted to his feet. By the time Edmund and Lucy returned, he was ready to kill them both. And then all the royalty in Calormen.

"I can't believe you. You do _not_ have the authority to declare war!"

"One: I didn't declare war. Two: as a ruler of this country, I _do_ have the authority to ride to the aid of one of our allies - _especially_ when our own sister's refusal was the excuse they used to attack Archenland. Three: Aslan Himself appeared to dole out punishment for Prince Rabadash's foolishness. I wasn't in the wrong, Pete."

Peter sighed, turning away from his brother. "I still can't believe all of that happened while I was gone. I wasn't even gone that long."

"It's fine. We handled it."

"That's the problem: you shouldn't have to! I'm the High King; it's my responsibility."

"You aren't the only king in this castle, Peter."

"What?" He turned back to the younger king.

"You heard me: you aren't the only king in this castle. I am capable of handling things. So are the queens. You were never meant to rule alone. How were you crowned, Peter? _To the clear Northern Skies._ I was crowned to the west; Susan, to the south; Lucy, to the east. We are every bit the leaders you are. You went to the North to solve one problem, and we went to the South to solve another. What, exactly, is wrong with that?"

He swallowed hard. Edmund had a point. But he was still the High King.

"You could've been killed."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"That doesn't make it alright."

"Maybe not, but that's kind of what we do, isn't it? Put our lives on the line to protect everyone else? You could have been killed, too, on your campaign against the Giants."

"Just… don't do it again." Peter turned on his heel, striding away, ignoring the indigent protests coming from behind him.

He was the High King. He was in charge. _He_ was supposed to take care of everything - including his siblings. And he'd be damned if his brother tried to take that from him.

 _He_ was the High King.

...Wasn't he?


End file.
